


The Kingdom Of Smosh

by Lady_Saphyra



Series: Tales from the Kingdom of Smosh [1]
Category: Shaymien - Fandom, Smosh, Smosh Games
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Complete, Like it doesn't actually start until book two, M/M, Multi, Partially proof read, Shaymien Slow Burn, So continuity may be a little off, like super slow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-26 22:36:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13867446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Saphyra/pseuds/Lady_Saphyra
Summary: Smosh is a kingdom in this AU, with Ian as it's King.A time of peace is interrupted by a strange figure in the palace town, who becomes a catalyst for a series of events. Chief Guard Shayne must confront his past and future to uphold his position as Ian's personal protector and deal with lost memories as they resurface with the help of his friends; Chief Knight Wes, Oracle Olivia, Mayor Joven, Sorcerer Mari, Healer Courtney, Apprentice Noah, Merchant Keith, and Tactician Boze all guide each other through a new phase of their kingdom.





	1. Chapter 1

Dawn broke. As the morning fog subsided; townsfolk began trickling into their morning routines. Bakers stocked shelves with freshly baked loaves, the muted noise of seamstresses slowly beginning to converse while on the job, the distant clang of the blacksmith hammering against freshly formed guard armor. 

The day began like any other, which subsequently included the King of Smosh standing outside the captain of the guards’ chambers awaiting on his presence. From past experiences, Ian has learnt not to barge into the room – despite his position – incase of any unwanted viewing. So he stood patiently and waited in the corridor, nodding politely to anyone who passed by, until he soon heard the slow click of the chamber door opening, and with it emerged a scruffy-haired, well-built, sweaty, blonde man that was Shayne. Ian deduced that he had either been training early or had something else on his mind, and chose to question the former.

Before he could make a deduction, a raspy voice cut through the air. “Morning sire.” Shayne croaked. “Shayne, you of all people know that you only call me that in public and formal situations.” he reminded the tired man. “My apologies” hummed Shayne, with thoughts clearly elsewhere. To cut through the awkward tension, Ian began to meander towards the throne room, gently coaxing Shayne to follow and leave his troubles behind.

With Shayne now fully alert and on guard, he signaled for the two guarded doors to be opened and immediately scanned the room for any threats before allowing Ian to sit atop the throne to begin the day’s work.

Ian’s voice quietly rang through the hall before his work begun, “So, Shayne” he queried, “are you feeling better after this morning?” Shayne immediately saw what he was playing at, but he decided to go along with it. “What on earth could you mean, sir?” “Well, just before when you came from your chambers, you seemed a bit out of it, you know?” Ian tried to reason. “Well, yes, I had just been training, however it was to combat some thoughts on my mind recently, but truly nothing of your concern, sir.” He calmly answered. So Ian assumed nothing of it and signaled for the guards at the other end of the hall to allow for the first visitor, for those in the town never usually came early to seek an audience with the king, it was almost certainly those from out of the kingdom seeking refuge or guidance.

 

Once Ian had made it through the first few people asking for no more than small pieces of land or requesting refuge, he couldn’t help but have Shayne’s thoughts in the back of in his mind, refusing to let go. Interrupting the King’s inner monologue, Chief Soldier Wes waltzed through the door, clad in battle-worn armor and cape, he made his way to the foot of the stairs separating the throne from the lower floor.

“Sire” he said whilst knelt on the floor “our forces are dwindling, as Shayne may have mentioned, the little severity of the situations that even pose a threat to our kingdom are causing our forces to retire.” Wes stated bluntly. “Go on,” requested the King, “I either suggest we create a false sense of safety in the town and force people to re-enlist into the barracks and prove that we are needed, or you decree that there must be a mandatory number of soldiers in the barracks and enforce it.” To Ian, both the suggestions seemed quite bold, so he posed a question to the second-in-command. “Tell me then, suppose we do falsify a threat, to whom do we entrust the creation of this deception?” The knight to there in confusion and thought, but was suddenly interrupted by a shuffle forward and a voice filling the air.

“Isn’t Boze a strategist of sorts?” announces Shayne, “Your point?” gruffly replies Wes, “well, she is quite good at devising traps and maniacal devices in her spare time while she trains to be a strategist, then?” Shayne corrects himself “I’ve seen her drawing about such things before, I think she’d be good at it” he continues.  
The pair of guards had fought in the past, but not in recent memory, or as Ian could remember. “I –” Ian pauses, “I do agree with you Shayne, and this idea of yours Wes could prove useful, but for now, I say try to make your training sessions as public as possible to expose your skills and training to others in the kingdom.” He concluded.

And with that, Wes bowed low to his ruler, turned and made haste for the training grounds to continue the morning routines. The interruption from the chief soldier had taken a fair amount of the mornings audiences, so Ian instructed the stationed guards to inform the townsfolk waiting to return tomorrow with their queries, unless urgent, and to inform those from other kingdoms to return later that day. 

A now slumping Ian wiped his hands over his eyes in light frustration and sighed “Will we ever have full barracks?” he questioned rhetorically, to which Shayne replied with a hum. “The excitement of a new opportunity drew me in into it” he said “Then the prospect of becoming the King’s personal guard made me want to push myself even further, and that drummed up a lot of publicity.” Shayne concluded. To Ian, this was true, and that exposure resulted in the best solider and guard he had ever seen, and it was Shayne. After reminiscing over years gone by, the pair left the throne room and made their way to Ian’s study.

The late morning turned to midday as they reached Ian’s study, and Shayne received an order that was very usual. “Shayne” began the King “have some time off for a few hours, maybe you can sort out those demons you’re battling, or even talk to Boze about the possibility of yours and Wes’ plan.” The unfrequented words of ‘time off’ caught Shayne literally off guard as he stumbled forward. “I – uhhhhhhh” he stalled “I – are you sure you don’t need me here?” he quizzed, “absolutely, you need this time, there’s only one way in here, and the windows are protected by Mari’s sorcery, so I’ll have another guard stationed here. It’s fine Shayne” Ian consoled. And with a strange weight lifted of his shoulders momentarily, Shayne thanked his King for his kindness and dashed straight for his chambers to change into lighter clothing for a while.

After reaching his chambers, Shayne pulled the door outward to reveal his slightly unkempt room. Making his way inside, he removed various parts of his armor and draped them over their respective stands, removed his undergarments from his still sweating body and hung them to dry in his washroom. With only a fresh pair of cotton trousers and strong leather training boots left on, he spent a few moments letting on his double bed and letting his body rest for a bit. After the reverie that is his feather mattress, Shayne heaved himself towards his writing desk and pulled a few well-kept letter from a drawer. 

“Oh Damien” he mumbled quietly, “where are you”. Shayne’s longtime friend Damien had been cast from their kingdom some years ago when another person ruled the kingdom that is Smosh. No one knows what he did, not even himself, but Shayne kept the small bits of communication that they made together. Shayne could never send any letter’s back to Damien, but the last thing he sent was his current pair of leather training boots. The boots were beautifully crafted, made perfectly to Shayne’s feet, which was only one of many skills his best friend has.

This is what motivated him, to train enough that one day he could venture out to find is lost friend. But for now, in the comfort of the palace, without thinking twice, hid the letters back in the drawer, grabbed a towel from the washroom and with only his boots and trousers, made his way to the courtyard training ground. The only time he trained alone was to practice another skill of his friends’, karate. This skill seemingly came naturally to Damien when they were younger as they trained to become part of the barracks. The fighting style was not unusual, but not common among the other soldiers and guards.

So Shayne arrived at the courtyard, with Damien still on his mind, and found the leather dummies over to one side. He draped his towel over the nearby bench and began to let loose with roundhouse kicks and punches until his body poured with sweat. “Good – thing - didn’t – put – on – a - shirt.” He huffed quietly to himself. But each time his boots came into he view while training in the hot midday sun, it pushed him further, now adding grunts to his moves. Unbeknownst to him however, Ian had full view of his training, as his study window was facing to courtyard and the hills beyond the walls.

Ian slowly began to hear noises from outside, but dismissed them as he continued signing manuscripts. As the heat encroached and he began to sweat, he opened his windows to allow a cool change to pass through. However, the wind did not come, but those dismissed noises from earlier manifested into loud audible grunts and cries coupled with furious thuds coming from below. The king peered outside his window and was surprised to see Shayne using his spare time to train, when he already had designated time for that. He tried to continue signing documents but the noises from Shayne overpowered his thoughts – he had never heard him sound this way before, even when sitting in and observing soldier and guard training sessions in the barracks. He needed to address this issue now.

Rising from his seat, and quietly closing his windows, Ian made his way to his study door and requested to be taken to the courtyard but the replacement guard. The silent man nodded and proceeded to walk quietly towards the main ballroom. Once the pair were inside the great ballroom, before they reached the other side, the King made a request. “Thank you sir, but I kindly ask that once I leave this hall I will no longer require your presence.” The guard nodded silently again and turned the opposite direction towards the barracks. Ian was a considerably nicer King than the previous one, his father, and the relationships between himself and the barracks were not of stature or hierarchy, but rather he showed an appreciation for their work and time, which quickly made him a favourite monarch in the public eye and in other kingdoms.

Once Ian reached the doors to the courtyard, he silently observed Shayne’s furious training regime until he tired and sat down on the bench and wiped himself with the towel. Now was his chance. The doors clicked open too quickly to Shayne to notice until a voice travelled to his ears. “You make it very hard to work some times Shayne, even in your time off” joked Ian “Sorry sir” Shayne replied gruffly. Something was up, and Ian could tell. Once he requested for a clean dry shirt to be given to Shayne, the King sat next to him on the bench, despite how hot and sweaty Shayne was.

Shayne was the first one to break the silence. “Did you need me sir?” “No, but I can see that something is troubling you Shayne, so should I ask, do you need me?” Shayne lifted his head and wiped it with the towel, slowly turning to meet Ian’s gaze. “You think I’m troubled?” seemingly offended “No, but something has been bugging you all morning that isn’t going away” Ian replied curtly “and I want to try and help.” Shayne appreciated the gesture, but nothing could bring back his best friend. He has no idea what he’d look like now, no idea where to look. He didn’t like the thought of it, but Damien could even be dead. “How can you help that?” mumbled Shayne, unaware of Ian next to him. “Hmm?” replied Ian quickly “Help you with what Shayne?” Ian coaxed.

After a brief moment of thought, Ian handed Shayne a clean shirt and put it on, he signed deeply and told Ian the story of his best friend Damien. “It truly isn’t a concern, sir” Shayne stated “Damien left me with only positive memories of him, and I don’t want them tarnished with the prospect of what ifs?, I want to use this friendship of ours to better myself, for the sake of the kingdom.” Ian suddenly saw what pain his father had caused Shayne, and clearly the position of the King’s chief guard gave him purpose and fulfillment. “Tell you what, if we ever hear from him, you’ll be the first to know” Ian said optimistically, “so let’s go and resume those audiences then.” He continued. 

After the pair refreshing themselves and Shayne changing back into his guard’s uniform, they pair waited in the throne room for the afternoon to turn into evening and fish their work for the day. The sun began to set and the last foreign traveller was dealt with, and with that Ian leapt from his throne and was escorted by Shayne to the King’s chamber before dinner. The conversation that followed was brief and light, only talking of the days villagers and townsfolk.  
Shayne waited for Ian to de-robe and de-crown before heading into the dining hall to sit alone at a large mahogany table and eat.

The normalcy of the situation was frightening, as a result of the pairs’ earlier encounter in the courtyard. With Shayne’s mind absent, Ian finished his meal and wanted to leave for the library. Before he could signal Shayne, the dining hall doors flew open and shuffling feet made their way to the head of the table. 

“Sire!” cried the voice “I have a plan for us to recruit new soldiers!” she said enthusiastically. “Excellent job Boze, so what do you have in mind?” replied the King “A simple rouse; after training the soldiers, you send most of the barracks out on a fake mission, and a few days later, those same soldiers are dressed as barbarians coming to raid the town” she began “Go on” answered Ian “and the remaining soldiers, like the really good ones, can single-handedly fend off the barbarians in a staged battle in front of the entire town at the front gates!” 

Clearly Boze was proud of her plan, and to Ian, it sounded like it would work. “Okay, now I need you go relay that information to Captain Wes so they can learn a staged fight, then once that it done, Wes can then come to me to send off the barracks which should recruit more soldiers as a result.” Stated Ian politely. Boze then bounced off after thanking her King and nodding to Shayne as she went off to find Wes. 

The pair remained silent for a while as Ian left Shayne to his thoughts. The only interruption came in the form of thunderclaps, which was relieving as the drought they had been suffering in the kingdom started to become a problem. “A cool change” stated Ian aloud “Agreed sir” replied Shayne with a tired voice; he clearly needed some more time to himself. “Shayne” Ian said louder than before “I want you to hang your sword now and take the rest of the night to rest.” replied Ian. He saw in his peripheral that Shayne loosened at the thought, but seemingly stood firm “I thank you sir, but I have a duty to uphold” retorted Shayne “See now, you forget I have the ability to order you around, so let’s say this, if you don’t go and rest willingly, I will just have to order you to” said Ian almost comically. Shayne sighed and bid his King goodnight and once again made his way back to his chambers.


	2. Chapter 2

Dawn breaks again, and Ian makes his was to his study to finish the documents from the day before. Ironically, it’s not long before he hears the thumping sounds of Shayne’s training outside in the courtyard that proves that his best friend has not left his mind. Opening the furthest window from Shayne’s grunting, Ian lets the cool change fill the stuffy air while he finishes signing papers. Watching the sunrise fully, Ian waits until Shayne is posted outside his chambers to greet him for the day. As Ian sits staring out the window, a thought rushes to his head. “If I can’t solve his problem, maybe the oracle has some insight” said a now enlightened Ian. A few minutes pass until another guard informs Ian that Shayne is ready to be posted. So Ian opens the door to once again a sweaty disheveled Shayne in armor waiting to follow Ian wherever he goes. “Good morning Shayne” said the King in an upbeat tone “Morning sir” Shayne replied. “I think I can help with your friend problem Shayne” Ian states, butting in. Shayne’s eyes momentarily light up in response. “Really?” he quizzed. “Come” said the king “This morning we shall meet with the oracle Olivia, she can give us both insight on our problems that trouble us” he continued. Without question Shayne followed Ian out of the palace at the break of dawn to find the place of the oracle.

 

 

Olivia’s place of residence was relatively small, but attached to it was her temple of the gods, where she connected to the spirits to enlighten those who ask her certain questions. Shayne knocked on her door multiple times before she answered with a shocked face. “We are here oracle to make two requests.” instructed the Ian “We need your insight” coupled Shayne. Hastily, Olivia led the two men into the temple for their oracles. Ian stepped forth, “I request oracle, that you reveal to me the closest future conflict” Ian requested, assuming she would speak of their plan to recruit more soldiers.

 

As Olivia performed her usual ritual and spoke to the spirits, they watched in awe as she sat on her pedestal for what seemed like minutes but for really only a few seconds at most. She turned to the King, “There shall be a fight – a fight that you shall first win, then another will come, but the outcome is not clear to me.” Ian thanked the oracle and left the room being relieved at her response, giving Shayne privacy to voice his thoughts to the oracle. Shayne found the courage to ask a simple question, “Where is my Damien Haas?” To her, his request was simple enough.

 

Taking his hand Olivia guides him to a shallow basin on the other side of the room. She takes the jug next to it and pours in some water, and then she places her hand inside. To his amazement, Shayne peers over into the basin and gasps. In the water below him, he sees Damien in a small village working his leather craft skills, then the image zooms outward to show a clear location – he’s in the neighboring kingdom. Unfortunately, it seems that he is visited by multiple guards and who looks to be a royal figure.

 

Shayne makes a point of remembering their face, to solve the ever growing puzzle of where Damien has been. After thanking to oracle multiple times, he makes his into the other room where Ian was waiting. As they bid goodbye to Olivia and made their way back to the palace for breakfast, Ian can’t help but ask. “So, did she help?” the King pestered “Absolutely, Damien is alive and well, still leather crafting but he must be training still, because he looks like he could even beat our finest knights” Shayne declared proudly as they entered the palace gates. “I guess we shall have to test that when we find him then” Ian stated “assuming you mean that the best is you” he continued smugly. Shayne smiled and huffed as they made their way into the palace, “Thanks for that sir” Shayne said shyly “truly, I feel more at ease now.” “Wonderful” replied Ian “so let’s get today’s audiences underway then.”

 

The morning passed in a flourish, with very few audiences held, they finished early, and went to seek council with strategist Boze on how her plan was formulating. On their way to her study, Ian wanted to enlighten Shayne about their plan. “Because the oracle said the battle would be won, that means we shall have new recruits in the barracks” he said proudly “Yes, but she also said there would be another, with an uncertain outcome” Shayne replied cautiously. “I’m sure she means the eventual duel between you and this Damien you are friends with – maybe you will equal each other” Ian said in spontaneity to lighten the mood.

 

With not a second passing, the door to Boze’s study was flung open to reveal the strategist flailing her arms in excitement at her finished masterpiece. “Boze” stated Shayne in monotone “Shayne! And his majesty! Hello!” she replied in a spritely fashion “Are you here to learn of my plan?” Boze estimated “Of course” replied Ian “please enlighten us.” The plan was explained much like it was the night before, with most of the barracks to leave and change into barbarians and fake an attack on the town in view of the public, the final details were for the date and time agreed on by Wes.

 

The rouse was to take place a week from the current date, giving Ian enough time to order more supplies from the townsfolk to give to the leaving soldiers to make the recruitment plan more effective. It was also agreed on that Shayne and Wes would have a small group of guards and soldiers training outside, but not close by as to arouse suspicion. Boze had formulated a great plan.

 

As the afternoon rolled around, Ian once again gave Shayne some time off, until that evening in fact, and so he decided to visit Mari and Noah to gain some insight as to the identity of the mysterious royal figure the oracle showed with Damien. He removed his breastplate and leg guards, but kept his long sword on his back, strapped to him by more of Damien’s handy work and his belt held a small dagger, also created by his friend. He then made his way into town to collect Noah and visit Mari.

 

Noah was Mari’s apprentice, learning history when he is not tending to the market stalls or working for the blacksmith. Without fail, Shayne found Noah cleaning the anvils and tools in the blacksmiths shed, but he couldn’t get away. Shayne needed an idea and quick. What he thought of wasn’t a safe idea, but it would work in any situation. He coughed and gain the attention of both the old and young men, “Excuse me blacksmith” Shayne began, “the King has requested to see Noah immediately.” He finished sternly, but the blacksmith was quick to object, “What for?” he retorted. Shayne replied honestly.

 

“I cannot allow for the privacy of his majesty to be breached. His orders were simple – I must see Noah, I require his skills.” Shayne said, in a slightly offended tone. No one in the town would directly question the King’s orders, except the blacksmith. “Fine” he stated gruffly, “but I’ll need him back.” Shayne laughed and dragged Noah out of the workshop and took him back to the palace’s tower to where Mari resided. Once Noah had finished thanking Shayne for getting him out of cleaning, he politely knocked on the door to the sorcerer’s study.

 

As the door creaked open, Mari’s face lit up as she saw the pair and ushered them into her space. “Hello there brave knight, what may you be doing here with my apprentice?” she questioned as they all took a seat around a table in the room. “I simply need you both to find portraits of every recent royal family member of each of our neighboring kingdoms, I’m looking for someone in particular.” “Simple,” Mari replied “and do you know what they look like?” she continued. “Well” Shayne stuttered “He looked about twice my age, he wore a circlet of some kind, had light armor that was on a relatively normal build, he had a cape with a golden goose emblem and a crest of sorts on it and –” he was cut off by Noah gasping and rushing to the plethora of bookcases on the walls.

 

A few minutes pass after frantic rustling and Noah returns to the table to peruse some books with Mari over the individual described by Shayne. Their mellowed expressions appear to show that they agree on the portrait in front of them. “Thanks to Noah and his quick wit, I believe we have found the individual you’re looking for.” stated Mari “Thanks” replied Shayne as he was handed the book and looked at the portrait. It certainly resembled the man he saw with the oracle, and he was from the kingdom of Aveil, who could have only been their king. Now his job was to ask Ian if he or his father knew the man. “Thank you, truly, and goodbye.” Shayne said as he departed the sorcerer and apprentice, making his way to find Ian within the palace.

 

Having tried his study, the courtyard and the great halls, the King was nowhere to be found. But Shayne knew of a place that no other was trusted with, the tower balcony. The mirror tower to Mari and Boze’s residency was on the other side of the palace and used for little other than storage. As the afternoon drew to a close, he trudged up the endless flights of stairs to reach a locked door, to which only he and Ian had the key, and closed the door behind him to see the silhouette of a man on the balcony.

 

“Ian” Shayne whispered, “I know whom I saw in the oracle’s vision with Damien” he continued. Ian slowly turned around and walked into the small room atop the spire inside the roof and came into Shayne’s vision. “Who?” Ian replied calmly, knowing the subject clearly meant a lot to Shayne. “It was the King of Aveil, a neighboring kingdom of ours” Ian just stood there, stone faced, so Shayne continued “Did you or your father know him? What he was like?” Ian remained silent. Ian knew of something from the past, but the two situations had to be more than coincidental. “I think I may have something to tell you” the King replied.

 

Locking the balcony door, Ian asked Shayne calmly for his key to the room they were in. Thankfully, Shayne didn’t question it and handed it over. Ian gestured for them to sit on the small padded bench at the back of the circular room. Sitting down first, Shayne still stood waiting for his King to allow him to sit. “Still upholding your duties despite being alone with me Shayne?” Ian joked, “I have to uphold my duties for I am a leading example of our combat forces, be them guards or knights.” Shayne replied firmly. Ian understood and invited him to sit down and began to talk.

 

“This, Shayne” Ian started “is information no other person has ever heard before.” This made Shayne furrow his brow. “When I was a teenager, my father was threatened with the prospect of war. This war was over some territory acquired by my father through questionable terms in the regions of Aveil for resources. This angered the king, who is the same one in power today, and he made a conditional offer to my father.” Shayne now sat, as close to the edge of the bench as possible before falling off, the tension in the air was as thick as the morning fog.

 

“His condition was to give Aveil the best warrior we had, and a truce would be in place, and half the land taken back by their kingdom.” Ian continued. “So who did the king send?” said Shayne quizzically. “He wanted to send Wes’ father, the chief soldier of the time, but my father had another idea. He thought to send someone who was equal in combat, but had other skills as well, hoping to avoid loosing any stolen territory through this trade.” Ian could see Shayne was trying to put the puzzle together. “In the middle of the night, I saw from my chamber window, a lamp flick on in the dead of night, for I couldn’t sleep I walked to the window to see figures being thrown about inside a house. Then they ran outside; screaming and crying.”

 

Shayne could make a guess, but he didn’t dare interrupt Ian. “The people next door to the family were bribed by my father’s guards to keep quite on the situation and never tell, and the family were forced out from the palace town.”

Ian paused, “And I saw a guard holding a letter pulling a boy a few years younger than me at the time away into the night, and was given to Aveil. This is why there was no war.” Ian paused again “Shayne; I believe that the boy was Damien.”

 

Now Shayne understood why Ian took the keys from him, there was no escape. No balcony to jump off or stairs to fall down, all there was there was himself, his King and a bench. Stunned, Shayne couldn’t do anything for moments, but began to let his protective exterior down and cried. He cried for his friend being alive, he cried for Damien’s family loosing their son, he cried for his friend being in a kingdom that was not his own. His best friend was the pet of the neighboring King.

 

The solidarity that Shayne had maintained subsided and quickly turned to rage. He spat questions to Ian in rapid succession, blaming his father, working on an extraction plan, too many thoughts overloaded his brain and Shayne just let it all pour out and collapsed onto his knees on the floor. Ian had never seen him so distraught, but knew only one thing for certain. “Sadly, Shayne, the agreement was that Damien could never be returned, or war would break out between our kingdoms, that must be why our barracks are depleting, because we are in a time of peace, thanks to Damien.” Ian tried to console Shayne, but nothing other than seeing Damien in the flesh, well and in the kingdom of Smosh could ever change his state of mind.


	3. Chapter 3

Days passed with Shayne being almost mute. Anything that didn’t pertain to Damien was irrelevant to him, other than his King’s safety. The day came for the fake battle to recruit more knights. Shayne still agreed to participate, but would not try to impress the public like Wes in his current state. Everything was in position, Ian and Boze stood atop the inner wall of the palace to watch from a distance, Wes and his knights and Shayne and his guards were training in an unused plot of land nearby, and the knights had been sent on a mission a few days before.

 

Boze could see in the distance, small figures approaching the town, precisely when they meant to. All was well, however the King was focused on Shayne’s training, not of his guards, but to himself. He was pushing himself harder than he’d seen previously in the courtyard. Wearing nothing but the leather boots and trousers grabbed the eyes of passing couples, with the women and men staring at Shayne sweating while he demonstrated his brute strength against multiple dummies, with his guards sparring behind him.

 

Wes was trying not to be outdone, but Shayne’s internal fury was unmatched and therefore Wes was earning the gaze of families with small children, watching and pointing at the knights training. Shayne could be audibly heard pummeling a standing dummy with his kicks and punches. Ian was enthralled by his anger that Boze pulled him up to watch the fake barbarians storm the town gate. Boze gave the hand signal and was caught be Wes, signaling that training was over.

 

This caused the crowds to disperse momentarily until the smashing of the gate began. Guards stationed atop the gate wall announced they were under attack, and on Wes and Shayne’s signal, lowered the gate to face the fake invading forces. Both guards and knights flew into action, with Wes following suit, but Shayne searched for the bluntest sword to attack with, fearing that his anger would cause some real damage to their already small barrack forces.

 

They clashed together and multiple faux barbarians fell to a single knight or guard, and only a handful were left, Wes and Shayne we there to impress the public and that’s what they did. Wes faked stabbing multiple men as he pulled out two knifes to conceal most of the combat, whereas Shayne flew full force, anger and all, into the men and struck them with forces that physically knocked them back, causing severe bruising and welts in the process.

 

Once the fake siege was over, the public cheered and some asked to join their ranks, kids also wanted to enlist for training when they were older. Ian congratulated Boze on her plan, and signaled for the awaiting guards to go remove the bodies and leave the town and return through a secret passage into the palace to congratulate their convincing display. The remaining guards and knights picked up the equipment and returned to the barracks and Wes and Shayne made their way into the palace.

 

While walking, Wes wanted to discuss his skills. “So, I didn’t think the King wanted real violence from us.” He joked, but Shayne replied bluntly “I was holding back, I’m just going through something.” So Wes didn’t make a big deal about it, fearing he would incur the wrath of Shayne himself. The pair continued silently, and were let into the palace and made their way to the throne room.

 

Waiting were Boze and Ian, both grinning, Boze more so, and the masked guards began coming through the doors, having the minor injuries tended to, whilst the masked knights were being treated for gashes and cuts and welts and bruises, all courtesy of Shayne. This annoyed Wes greatly. “You picked my knights to injure?!” he spat “You do realise this was to recruit knights, not lower the numbers more!” Wes fumed. Before Ian could intervene, Shayne retorted, rising up to be only inches apart. “I just put on a good show, like I was asked.”

 

Shayne began to walk towards Ian and Boze as he replied. “I guess it was a little too convincing.” Wes said arrogantly. Before Shayne’s fist could make contact with Wes’ jaw, Ian stepped into to cool the tension. “You both did extremely well, all of you did” said the King, “so tonight you shall all dine with us here as a result of our success.” Cheers could now be heard throughout the great hall, and with that Wes turned to leave and return to clean the barracks.

 

Damien still fueled Shayne’s thoughts, that much was clear to Ian, so he sought council with him in private to discuss how he had been over the past few days.

“Shayne?” Ian said when he entered his study. “I understand my Wes is annoyed –” “I do too.” Shayne interrupted the King. The silence lingered for a while. “Right, so what will you do about Damien?” Ian questioned. There was a sudden knock on the door, and Shayne rose to answer it.

 

A panting guard was on the other side, “Mari – ugh – found something” they said. Shayne turned to Ian, “Mari’s found something” and Ian got out of his chair immediately, and they followed the guard to Mari’s study in the tower. After climbing the stairs, they find Mari’s door ajar, and the King and his guard walk in unannounced. Mari, intertwined with scrolls, manuscripts and books of all types, whizzed around to meet the pair. “Good, you’re here.” She said, dropping the formalities. “When I said I found something, it was more of a - someone” she continued, and the smallest bit of hope was instilled in Shayne, “But I say found, I mean saw through my crystal ball. So I know where they are, but I’m anaylsing clothing to see where they’re from, and it’s near the boarder too.”

 

“To say Shayne was elated is an understatement” quipped Ian, and Shayne just smiled quietly. Mari moved on quickly to more serious matters, “So, who’ll go get him?” The pair turned straight to Shayne, and without question he was ready to go. “You can’t leave yet though” Mari said breaking his reverie, “I’ll need to tell you where you’re going, get your horse ready, take supplies for him – we don’t know if it’s Damien Shayne.” She said bluntly. Shayne nodded, but still agreed, it was part of his job – to protect those in need, royalty or not.

 

Ian suggested Shayne go rest for the night, and wait until the morning to go retrieve the refugee. After he left and bid the King and sorcerer goodnight, the pair sat down for a serious talk. “So, we can’t have Shayne go collect him” Ian said, “Correct, and that’s because it definitely is Damien, I talked to Olivia this morning and she told we what she saw, and it was the same as what Shayne said to me.” Mari replied. “I’ll get Wes to go with two guards and collect him tonight. And I’ll explain it to Shayne tomorrow, he can’t hate me for too long.” Ian said jokingly.

 

After the cordial agreement, the pair too retired for the night, and Ian instructed a guard to inform Wes and two others of their night’s duties. He also went to find Courtney, who could surely heal the wounds of any man with her potions. So the King quietly made his way through the dim halls of his palace in the dead of night, and found Courtney, not in her lab, but the garden, picking flowers. “You know I could just get you your own garden right?” Ian interrupted, “Oh, geez, sir” Courtney said whilst jerking up.

 

“I’ll go to my chamber shortly sir” she replied, defeated. “I’m looking for you actually” the king replied. Her eye’s shot open as wide as the moon “Really?” she quizzed. “Yes, I need you to create multiple healing potions” Ian replied “What kind are we talking here sir?” “Consult Mari on the full extent of his potential injuries, but start with things that a man near death would need.” he continued.

“and please Courtney, have them ready by morning at the latest.” Ian said with a turn and he made his way back to his own chambers for what was left of the night.

 

Unbeknownst to everyone but himself, Ian never had to guess that the unconscious man was Damien, he knew it. And the oracle proved it. The day that Damien was traded by his father for eternal peace, he sought the oracle on the fate of the then teenager. And they only told so far, but Ian knew enough to know his near future, which he could reveal to absolutely no one, not even Shayne.


	4. Chapter 4

Wes rode quietly into the night with the two guards thanks to their horses’ padded hooves. Escaping into the night was freeing for Wes, as he never saw outside the town into the kingdom and beyond thanks to his dedication to his profession. He didn’t mind that, but he just wished he saw more before he enlisted. But then he would never have meet his fiancé nurse if he hadn’t joined. But that was irrelevant now, somebodies’ life was at stake and the faster they got to him the better.

 

The only things they saw were whatever their lanterns lit as they rode past, casting shadows onto their bodies. They rode northeast, to the closest boarder crossing from the next kingdom to the palace town. The shorter distance made it more accessible for merchants, making Smosh a relatively wealthy kingdom because of where it was situated.

 

Bramble began to appear more often, and trees were more twisted the further they went. The trio stopped to put more amour on their horses, as thorns and bindies began to emerge as well. They were well over half way there, and dawn was well on it’s way too, but the thick trunks of the surrounding trees indicated that they were heading into forest territory, which would be a maze to get in and out of.

 

Regardless, they pushed ahead, carving the occasional arrow into a tree pointing back to the town for their journey home. Even the horses were cautious around these parts. The trees grew darker and the ground became purple and fog seemed to envelope their vision slightly. The trio now made a point to get out of there and reorient themselves quickly.

 

After headed directly northeast on their compass for several minutes, they emerged into a riverbank, and over the other side was a merchant cart, with his horse, and a body slumped under a tree. They smoothly crossed the river and approached the man. Wes thought to ask for directions until he saw the man seemingly sleeping under the tree – it was who they were looking for.

 

“Excuse me sir” Wes began, and the merchant flipped around, “Oh! Can you help me please, see I found this man –” he said quickly “We know, we’ve been looking for him, where are you headed?” Wes cut in. “I’m headed to the palace town, but my cart is too heavy to cross the river, so I waited here for it to loose its current, and this man came wandering by and just, well, collapsed!” the merchant exclaimed. “What is your name, merchant?” Wes asked politely “Keith, sir.”

“Very well Keith, we are headed there as well, so as long as you can accompany us, we shall help you pass the river safely.” “Sounds good to me!” exclaimed Keith, as he fetched all the belongings he could carry and helped stock the guards’ horses and crossed the river.

 

The lighter weight meant they could pass through, so Wes dismounted his horse and helped Keith get atop his and went with the other guards, while he himself placed the unconscious man into the wagon and helped coax the horse across the river. “Thank you kindly” said Keith, “how do I repay you?” he asked. “You don’t, you made our job much easier, I suggest you come see the King, he’ll be very pleased to learn of you.” Wes replied. So an elated Keith joined the party of three and they made their way to the forest.

 

“Wait, I can't through there, my wagon is too be, can we go around?” Keith said, alerting the guards. “Do you know how long it will take?” Wes inquired. “Yes, no longer than going through, but the path narrows as the river widens a little, so be wary. So the four traversed the landscape until their path home was clear, and the break of dawn could scarcely be seen on the horizon. Wes decided to ask why Keith was here, “So, what do you sell as a merchant?” “I personally sell clothing and accessories, my own but also ones I’ve bought from other kingdoms, meaning people can get whatever they want” Keith replied confidently. The conversation turned to their respective occupations, and the one guard rode ahead to inform the king of their imminent arrival. Wes helped Keith set up his wagon for the day’s markets and continued forward into the palace.

 

Shayne once again spent the morning training, but it showed, his continual workouts increased his endurance and stamina to more than they’ve ever been, which he was pretty proud about as he prepared to go rescue the man. So he decided to watch the sun rise, clean off and meet Ian in the throne room that morning. As the giant ball was fully visible, Shayne hit the barrack showers, as Noah was yet to fix his after punching the wall a week before after learning about Damien. It became a constant reminder so he didn’t want to go anywhere near the room.

 

After drying off, he ran into a sweat laden Wes who said was just out horseback riding, learning to adjust more in the dark, which wasn’t a bad idea he thought.

Shayne replaced his cotton clothes with his guard armor and meandered towards the throne room. He was met with a jittery Ian, who seemed out of sorts, but was reluctant to ask why. After all, when Ian did that, he ended up punching his bathroom wall.

 

The King greeted him with a curt nod and the day’s audiences began immediately. They were also dealt with quickly. So Ian had hours left once the morning was over. Shayne was about to question his behaviour, but Ian turned his head sharply toward Shayne and stood to face him. “Shayne.” Ian managed to say. “I made a choice.” He continued slowly. Shayne didn’t like where this was heading. “I sent Wes to collect the unconscious man at twilight.” Shayne could do nothing but stare at Ian and hope his dodging skills were faster than he could throw a punch.

 

The final nail in the coffin for Shayne was this, “Courtney has been tending to him all morning, her potions have been doing wonders, and Mari is beginning to ask him questions to determine the course of recent events.” Ian continued.

This time, Shayne did actually go to punch Ian, but purposefully missed and drove his fist straight through the wall. Ian was utterly shocked. “You – you tried to punch me?!” his confusion filled the air entirely, as Shayne didn’t realise what he was doing. “I – I – I” Shayne stuttered, so he walked forward and slumped onto the steps to the throne.

 

Despite the treason that Shayne had committed, he understood where Shayne was coming from, and took the blow for lying to his friend. “I’m sorry Shayne, we couldn’t risk you going if it wasn't Damien, and it would be too late by morning, you needed to rest.” And Shayne understood what Ian was saying, so he calmed down, and the pair went to visit Courtney, Mari and Joven the mayor. Shayne knocked weakly, and forwarded in and stood to the side as the King’s presence was made.

 

Despite the multiple people and guards in the room, Shayne was transfixed on the lifeless body of the man on the bed, surrounded by half empty potion bottles and herbs. Joven came to tell Shayne of the events of the man before he passed out. “So,” Joven said quietly, “according to Mari’s knowledge, that man is indeed Damien Hass, the missing Smosh teenager from many years ago,” Shayne visibly relaxed, “and he’s been seen by multiple other town mayors, asking for the location of the palace and their guards.” Joven continued. “We assume by guards, he meant you. Because you were his friend, weren’t you?” Shayne just nodded in reply, “So you went into the barracks to protect after you couldn’t protect your best friend.” Joven deduced, and Shayne told him he was right.

 

Their conversation was broken by sputtered coughing and moaning from the other side of the room, and Shayne raced to see Damien after years of separation.

Courtney asked for room as he administered potions and powders to his wounds and abrasions. Ian could do nothing but console Shayne in the moment, proving he had forgiven him for his anger earlier on. Courtney asked Mari to perform an analysis on the semi-conscious man. “Alrighty,” she began, “his vital signs are recovering steadily, but these wounds need to be tended to, to prevent further damage. All organs are normal, but he has broken toes and a fractured left forearm, he suffered severe head damage, no concussion or bleeding, so he’s lucky there. He’ll be better in a few weeks, may need some history lessons though.” She finished, smiling slightly.

 

The male trio’s jaws dropped, to survive for so long in alienation would drive most people mad. But to Shayne, it seemed that Damien kept honing his skills and learning new ones to occupy his time. He was proud of his best friend for daring to escape and reconnect. For that, he is eternally grateful. Snapping out of his reverie, Courtney ushers them all out of the room to continue monitoring the disheveled man. So the King invites them all to have breakfast as a compromise, and they all head to the dining hall.

 

As they all sat down, with Ian at the head of the table, Shayne was still preoccupied with the rushing images of seeing Damien so damaged in his mind.

The only thing he heard while the others ate was Joven’s comment. “So, wasn’t this person meant to be the best our kingdom has to offer? What’s so special about him?” This, caused Shayne to snap. Barely short of flipping the entire mahogany table, he up and left and made his way to the courtyard to let out his frustrations. The only thing he was thankful for was that Olivia had been right.

 

The morning turned to midday, and news of Damien’s recovery was spread throughout the castle, but the public would not see him until he was completely healed. And Shayne continued to hammer the dummies until they began to split open. As he carried one towards the barracks, he ran into Wes heading in also. Shayne was still a little mad at him for going and finding Damien, but he was also grateful for saving his life. Despite his gratitude, to burn the residual anger, he challenged Wes to a sparring match, and Wes made the trainees watch and learn from the two experts.

 

Each taking the bluntest swords they could find in the barracks, the pair situated themselves across from each other and said their final words. “I’m glad we’re getting to do this finally Shayne.” Wes stated, “Well, I really won’t be going easy on you, so be prepared to hurt after.” Shayne retorted bluntly. Wes could only smile and laugh and take his stance. Shayne did the same. What came next looked to a trainee like a blur of flying metal and wispy bodies.

 

Wes made first contact, under Shayne’s left arm, but he soon twisted around to counter and slash Wes’ back, causing him to keel over slightly, to which Shayne hit his tailbone with the butt of his sword hilt, causing Wes to groan in pain. Seeing that Shayne wasn’t joking about the going all out part, he forced himself to face Shayne and let loose. The pair kept fighting until one hit the ground. Wes tripped Shayne causing him to stumble, but regain balance as Wes was distracted, and Shayne dropped the sword and body slammed the taller man to the ground. Then he unsheathed a dagger from his hip and held it to Wes’ throat. “Check mate” Shayne said firmly.

 

He rose and extended a hand to Wes, which he gladly took, “You should’ve become a knight my friend!” he exclaimed. “Oh, I was” retorted Shayne, “but I got the opportunity for more, and I took it, and now I’m guarding the King.” He finished. As the pair dusted themselves off and examined their minor wounds, another guard entered the room at the King’s request, for Shayne. Wes ordered the trainees to go back to training and went to clean himself off.

 

An unkempt Shayne took off to find Ian, with his equipment in hand, it made his journey slower than usual. Ian didn’t question Shayne on his appearance, since because of his track record, and led him to Mari, who had found more information about Damien. Portraits were laden in her study as the pair went inside and saw Mari deep in thought. “Hey” she said without looking up. “I think I know why they took Damien.” She concluded. But Ian answered, confused, “My father gave him in exchange for peace, since he was our best soldier, we know.”

 

“No” she interrupted. “Look at this wedding portrait, what is it labeled as?” Mari quizzed the pair. “It says Aveil Royal Wedding” replied Shayne, confused as to why they were looking at paintings. “Well, this woman, according to recounts of townsfolk throughout our town, say this woman looks exactly like Damien’s mother, before she died. A stunned Shayne and composed Ian stood now alongside Mari. “She escaped her marriage into royalty, carrying a child, and made her way here. She was intercepted by guards and posed as a traveller with a husband and child and settled here. When Damien was of a certain age, the guard who posed as his father alerted Aveilian sources and was extracted to his father.” Shayne stumbled backwards and Ian posed a solution, “If Damien doesn’t know about his true past, we should let him discover it on his own terms.” The party agreed to keep this secret withheld.

 

Damien, Shayne’s resourceful, kind, caring best friend, was a prince and they never knew. Now he knows why his friend was taken, to be a ploy for eternal peace. It made him feel sick inside. He needed air. After leaving the room, he made his way to the palace wall to let himself breathe.

 

As Shayne left the calming height of the wall, he passed by Courtney’s lab and couldn’t help but peer inside. No one was there, other than Damien either unconscious or asleep, and he assumed the former. So he went inside and sat next to the bed and observed his friend in the worst state possible. His wounds were healing quickly and his breaths were considerably deeper than when he first saw him. So he began to dose on in the chair, until her heard a noise.

 

Light sputtering noises came from Damien and Shayne awoke to his blinking eyes and groaning noises. Being careful not alert him, Shayne didn’t tell him his name until he wasn’t in a bed, and asked a simple question. “Hello?”

 

Damien groaned in response, scanning the room that he could see, and his eyes widened as he saw a guard in uniform. Trying to squirm away was useless, but his eyes seemed genuine and tried to reply. “H – H – H – Hel” he croaked.

“Please, stay awake, I’m going to get help.” Said the mysterious guard. He returned minutes later with a blonde woman and a man in regal dress. But they didn’t look like his father, so that means he escaped.

 

As the woman checked his wounds and vitals, he made eye contact with the familiar guard once more, and tried to answer his earlier question; “H – Hello”

This caught Shayne off guard and he rushed to Damien’s side. “Hi there, whether you remember me or not, I was once your friend, but even if you can’t remember me, I’m willing to still be your friend.” Shayne said hastily. This made Damien smile; no one had been truly kind to him in many years.

 

Courtney gave the all clear and she left the room, leaving Shayne and Ian with Damien. “So, glad to see him again Shayne?” said Ian, blowing his cover. “Very”

“So, I’ve seen your face before, guard, but whom, may I ask are –” Damien coughed, “are you?” he said, meeting Ian’s gaze. He replied weakly, “I, Damien, am the new King of Smosh, Ian; and my father has died, so there’s nothing to worry about.” Unsure of what he meant, Damien thanked him and nodded in response.

 

The pair left an injured Damien to rest, and after a few weeks, he was back to full health.


	5. Chapter 5

Damien was in Mari’s study with Noah, learning about the history that he missed out on, and about their monarchy and the town they were in. They made sure to let Damien remember Shayne in his own time, so they avoided talking about him. But he was learning incredibly quickly, after taking only a walk to walk again, and another to run properly, he began to live up to being the best there was.

 

While riding a horse that many believe was once his and a youth, Ian and Shayne observed him leap over obstacles and avoid natural hazards in the heat of the moment. His skills were incredible. “Shayne, this is really your friend?” Ian laughed “He really is something” Shayne replied, feeling smug about being friends with someone special.

 

Damien rode in to the stables to dismount his horse, and collected his equipment, and Ian instructed a message be sent to him to have him sit and talk with Shayne about their past. He believed it was time. “Shayne, follow me” ordered Ian, “That’s my job” Shayne said brightly. “You’ll have to speak to Damien about your past, and only you can do that.” And Shayne knew it too; Damien had recovered quickly and was relearning his skills faster than ever.

 

Sitting in the throne room, Ian was reading documents on his throne, with Shayne on a wall at a set of chairs, but within Ian’s earshot. Damien emerged, sweaty and unkempt, much like Shayne, and Ian asked him to sit down with Shayne. It had to be done. “So” Shayne began awkwardly, “I used to be – was – still am, I hope, your best friend when you were a child, until, you know, you were taken.”

 

Mari had told Damien exactly of his past and understood it all, so this should make sense. But despite it all, he was still wary. “I’m sure, but I won’t go without convincing.” This caused Ian to raise his head, and saw a confused Shayne staring a cautious Damien eye to eye. “Okay,” Shayne replied calmly, “how do I do that?”

“You’ll have to prove it somehow, say, some childhood knowledge only you and I would know?”

 

It was a reasonable request, so Shayne obliged, “Well, no one knows, but you and I made secret passages everywhere in town, from in the hollow trees into the palace to watch the knights train, to tunnels under the walls to sneak out at night and watch the stars.” Shayne stated. Damien was starting to be convinced. But he needed more, “Ummmmm,” Shayne thought, “you taught me the basics of hand-to-hand combat, and you taught me your signature move,” Damien hummed at the memory, “you called it, Day to Night, where you’d knock someone out with a strategic kick or punch, making it ‘night time’ and I thought it was amazing.” Shayne admitted.

 

“I – I do remember that, wait, are you the boy with the long hair?” Shayne laughed and nodded, he forgot he had longer hair as a child. “Then I do remember you, Shayne, it’s been a very long time, but I never forgot to write to you when I could, until, well, I couldn’t.” The pair were interrupted by Ian, “Do you want to show us those combat skills then, assuming you’re up for it?”

“Anything sire, I’m all better now.” “And Shayne here and beat our chief knight with a single sword, he’s improved since you’ve last fought I’m sure” the King smiled. So the trio all rose and made their way to the barracks.

 

Wes halted training at their entrances, and went to ask Ian for their visit. Wes then informed the trainees that they were to see a fight between the most skilled fighters they had to offer. The pair got prepared, Shayne exchanged his guards armor for a lighter set, and put on his leather boots made by Damien, another sign that proved their friendship from years gone by. He grabbed a blunt sword and had his dagger at the hip, ready to take Damien down how he did Wes.

 

Damien however was unorthodox in his preparations. He pulled off the bottom of his cotton undershirt and wrapped his hands in the dirty fabric. He rolled up his trousers and folded his boots down. He did not pick up a weapon, even when Shayne offered him a sword of his own. This confused the crowd, Wes and Shayne most of all, for he refused to fight his friend unfairly. But Damien insisted.

 

Not being one to refuse his friend, he readied his sword, and waited for Wes to call it and begin the bout. Wes called out and Damien flew backwards the second Shayne lunged forward to stab him. He darted around Shayne’s side and kicked his right hip, causing him to buckle sideways, and began punching his lower back, with Shayne exchanging his sword to his left hand, he swung frantically around his back to catch Damien off guard, which struck his side.

 

Damien whizzed around to Shayne’s front and began blocking his friends’ attempt at contact. His exposed arms slowly changed colour from a tanned skin tone to be dotted with purple welts, Shayne wasn’t holding back either. After his right side recovered, he replaced his sword and ran forward to close the gap between the pair.

 

Shayne dashed to Damien’s right side and swiped at his hands, which covered his face. However, Damien dodged and the sword made contact with the bridge of his nose, immediately spouting blood. Shayne was horrified, that he’d injured his friend. But Damien saw an opportunity and punched Shayne first in the neck, then the square of his chest and hit almost near his temple, causing Shayne to fall flat to the ground; something that no one had been able to do in years.

 

Rounds of applause erupted from the surrounding crowd, and Wes went to help Shayne get back on his feet, and Ian came to congratulate the pair. Shayne stood up, leaning on Wes, and spat blood from his mouth as he felt his chest and head. “Now I’ll have to see Courtney, geez” quipped Shayne. Ian laughed, to Shayne’s disappointment. “Now you’ll have to tell me how you escaped, you fighting machine” spat Shayne, as they went to meet with Courtney.

 

With his wounds tended to, the trio went to lunch, a rarity for Damien. Despite his muscular physique, he weighed little because of his restricted food allowance while in exile. Shayne believed that once he ate more food, he could injure a man with a single punch, which was a frightening thought after seeing the most recent display.

 

“So, Damien, can you tell us how you actually escaped Aveil’s clutches?” queried Ian as the three sat at the dinging table for lunch. “Well, I’ll give you the abridged version for now;” Damien stated, “So once I was taken away, I immediately conspired against the King while living in his palace. After learning that my father lived within these walls, I assumed he was a guard, I committed an act of treason publically, which got me exiled and banned from outside connection, only with the guard bringing my food. So I took up leather crafting, basic blacksmithing, horse riding, gardening, and of course fighting, hand-to-hand combat, swordplay, archery and axe throwing, and carpentry. These skills were what I saw as necessary to learn for my planned escape. I fought each guard that came to my home, and became injured fighting the last two before I jumped into the closest river I could find and floated down stream for a while, Then I swam to the other side of the river and began trekking to find somebody, I passed out at some point, and now I’m here.”

 

Stunned by the series of events, Ian and Shayne were curious to the extent of Damien’s skill set, which appeared to be never ending. As they continued, Damien finished eating in half the time than the other, so Shayne asked if he could have the rest of his food, which he gladly allowed. “You know, you’re going to have to start eating more, then you won’t look like a twig and get some more muscle into you.” Shayne stated. “Small steps” replied Damien courteously. “Maybe you’ll have bigger biceps than Shayne one day.” joked the King, “I doubt it.” mumbled Shayne, and the three laughed for far longer than was necessary.

 

“Speaking of muscles,” interjected Shayne, “how’s about you show me how you train? Give each other a few tips, considering you whammed me pretty hard earlier.” “I’m surprised you want to learn anything from me man.” Damien replied shyly, “I always tried to learn from you, you know” he admitted.

Shayne’s shocked face said it all; his friend admired him. Ruining the moment, Ian cut in, “Sorry guys, but Shayne and I have to get back to work soon, I’ve got foreign people coming this afternoon. So we’ll see you then Damien.” Said Ian, “Hey Dame,” added Shayne, “the barracks are out the door and to the left, or you can go straight ahead and go to the spot where I train alone in the courtyard. “Thanks,” Damien replied, “appreciate it.” The trio then parted ways into the rest of their day.

 

Damien thrashed about the leather dummies, noticing where Shayne had split them, and continued to punch, kick and slam into the sacks. The sun wasn’t terribly hot, but still wasn’t comfortable to train in. Damien, despite living alone for so long, was still anxious of how he looked, even in private, so he always trained fully clothed. But today was different. Damien had been using his shirt as hand wraps for most of this training session, and decided he either needed a new shirt before he continued, or changed weapons.

 

Despite his social anxiety, Damien pull off his tattered shirt, tore it in two with ease, and wrapped his hands again. He hen went to his small bag he carried with him and pulled out two leather bands with metal studs, his home made pair of cestus’. After fastening the gloves to his blistered hands, Damien toweled himself of sweat and began to wail on the most damaged punching bag dummy Shayne had. It was pretty beat up, Damien thought, but I could do better.

 

Using what little body weight he had, Damien’s feet wedged into the ground as he leant forward slightly and kept punching, straightening up only for the occasional kick that sent the dummy flying. Despite his weight, Damien made up in height, evasiveness and strength. Shayne was right, if he ate more and kept working like he does, he’d gain some muscle mass pretty fast. But as he thought about it, Damien didn't realise that he had busted a bag completely open. “Well, this is my fault, so I’ll fix it.”

 

Damien wasn’t used to having people that could help him on a whim, rather he fended for himself, so he did however ask the only guard around for some leather, and awl, and some studs to repair the dummy bag. As soon as they returned, he set to work, measuring and placing the leather over half the dummy, and using his on-hand tool kit he cut it and secured it. Having wrapped half the bottom, he focused on refilling the bag, and after scavenging for the lost stuffing; he pulled the leather atop the bag and stitched it closed. “Seamless, literally.” He chuckled to himself. As quickly as he broke the bag open, it was closed, and Damien immediately began flailing at it once more, continuing until the sun set or someone told him otherwise.

 

Despite the amount of foreign dignitaries the King saw that evening, Mayor Joven still found a way to weasel his way in for a late audience. “My liege” Joven over exaggerated. A small sigh came from Shayne’s mouth as he stood next to the throne, and Ian had no choice but to hear his plea. “Sir, I do not believe that someone like Damien should be wandering our town, the kingdom even. I have every reason to believe that he’s an Aveilian spy for their King, or a Rouge with many talents seeking to kill you or take you hostage.” Joven spurted. Ian saw in his peripheral that Shayne was ready to pounce on him, and had to act fast.

 

“Relax Mayor, he shall be kept to the confides of this palace until we know why he was brought here.” Calmly replied the King. “Brought here?” Joven quizzed. “Yes, the oracle told me, twice, of his coming. Once may years ago, and again only recently, for I believe he has a purpose here.” Ian explained, “There is more information I know which I cannot divulge, even to Damien himself, so when his purpose has been fulfilled, then, we may discuss his circumstances.”

 

Joven reluctantly agreed with his King and left the throne room to return home for the evening. A small clank noise was heard as Shayne released his sword from his grip and let it fall into it’s sheath. “So, you really know something about Damien?” interjected Shayne. All Ian could do was nod in agreement. As Shayne very much liked his job, he chose not to pester Ian about the information. The pair retired before dinner and closed the final Autumn councils until Winter passed. As Ian changed in his chambers, he walked into his study to write down a few thoughts and air out his room with the cold evening air.

 

The stone cold breeze washed through his study, and a steady thumping could be heard outside the window. Ian peered outside and saw a topless Damien punching, then repairing a leather dummy bag. After he tended to the split, he began fighting the bag once more. “It's as if they never stop training around here.” Ian remarked. But a knock on the door signaled dinner and asked for a guard to escort Damien back to his chambers to change and attend dinner.

 

Damien learnt quickly, and grew to new customs even more so. As he was in his rather empty chamber save for the few things be took with him, he searched for a clean shirt and pants and tried to comb his hair into place. He wanted to appear civilised even after living in the woods for years. He opened the dining hall doors quietly and saw, once again, Shayne to Ian’s left as he sat at the head of the table. He was gestured to come to the table, and stood like a gentleman and waited to be asked to sit. “You could learn something from him Shayne” Ian kidded.

“Ha, but I don’t have time, seeing as I’m looking after your behind every waking hour.” Shayne countered.

 

Dinner passed quickly, and Damien told stories of living in a small wooden hut, and the dangers of open fires, how to tend crops and learn to carve an archery bow and teach yourself to shoot in between his questions about Shayne’s later years in life. Ian saw that the pair were really alike, and Shayne was a changed and now that his best friend was back. All seemed right in the world.


	6. Chapter 6

Winter arrives and the kingdom of Smosh has released information about Damien and his skills, which prompt more folk to enlist into the barracks.

Shayne now trains with Damien each morning, and Damien has the same physical build as Shayne maybe he’s even stronger, Noah has continued his learning with Mari, and Mari and Courtney have been creating ailments and potions for multiple ancient diseases, Boze has been planning a number of strategies in case of an attack according to the weather, Wes has coached his newest batch of trainees who have graduated to knights, Keith stayed in the town and befriended Noah and helps with the seamstresses occasionally, and Ian has kept the kingdom together without a hitch.

 

However, the only person was circumspect was Olivia. Her visions and spirits tell her of the uncertain battle that she informed Ian of months before, and decides to inform the King. She made her way toward the palace, trudging through the ground draped with snow, and eventually entered the palace gates. As she waited to seek council with Ian, a bewildered Shayne runs past, scantily clad and clearly looking for something while as he rushed past.

 

Shayne flew past the barracks gate to search for his missing clothes. Clearly having been stolen, someone either hid them, or has them on hand. Dashing through the halls of the palace, being wary to not run into Ian at this early hour, he makes his way to the stables, which are empty, then to the courtyard. “Damn you, son of a –” Shayne mutters until Damien audibly yells “GOOSE!” and dashes away with Shayne’s sweaty training gear in hand.

 

Despite Damien’s newly acquired muscles, he still runs like the string bean he once was, and dashed further into the courtyard, weaving in and out of carefully carved topiary bushes. The commotion outside caused Ian to stir and open his chamber windows to find two grown men, barely dressed, running around his courtyard at the break of dawn. “I’m going to have to stop them training so early.” Groaned Ian as he tried and failed to fall back to sleep.

 

Flying around the palace walls, Damien charged into the side door leading straight into the barracks, a risky move seeing as anyone training there would be in full view of their antics, and Damien had to see if Shayne would risk his reputation amongst Wes’ knights. “Be thankful you are wearing a towel!” cooed Damien and he nodded to anyone who looked his way. Shayne on the other hand cursed to himself and meandered to the back doors of the palace, trying to catch his friend.

 

As the two adult man-children made up for lost time by having their fun, Olivia was finally allowed to see the King. She walked in slowly and faced Ian. “Sire,” she began cautiously “I have seen a battle to come, to change the kingdom.” The oracle continued broodingly. “The one of which its outcome I cannot determine. I believe the gods have chosen our fate.” Ian paused, “What do you suggest we do?” he queried, “I know only this,” began the oracle, “that one person shall fulfill their potential and reach their destination in life.” She continued ominously. The King could not ponder as to whom Olivia was referring too, but the pressing matter now was the prospect of battle.

 

The snow began falling faster as Ian’s mind raced. Smosh wasn’t ready for a small-scale fight, let alone a potential war, so whoever had joined the barracks needed to be trained faster. More resources were needed and plans had to be made. Ian thanked Olivia for her insight and asked her to report on any information that she learns in the future. As the King went outside to see her off, a wild Damien scurried along in front of him, vaulting walls as he ventured into the snow, followed by a seething Shayne in a towel as he fell spectacularly as he clipped a wall he tried to jump.

 

The stillness of the image in front of Ian called for attention. “Men.” He cried, and a shivering Shayne and gleeful Damien appeared at his sides. “Despite the morning chill, you two insist on your childish antics,” Ian drilled “I understand that you are making up for lost time, but not when we have work to do.” He finished. The pair apologised and were dismissed to freshen up before they attended to their duties for the day.

 

Damien spent the rest of his day practicing his skills outside. Switching between archery, horseback riding, cestus fighting, woodcarving, leather crafting and martial arts; and he spent the rest of his daylight hours improving them. Whereas Shayne spent his day beside Ian, protecting him. Shayne occasionally envied Damien’s freedom, being able to live in the barracks and spend all his time training or otherwise. The only thing Shayne could train was his poker face and his ability to stand for hours on end. The King noticed his absent-mindedness, and he rapidly understood Shayne’s mindset. “Go.” Ian said, pulling Shayne from his thoughts. “I’m sorry sir?” Shayne questioned, “Go and talk with him, I need some time to contemplate a situation I’m in anyway, you’re dismissed until dinner.” Shayne thanked his King and made his way to join Damien.

 

Ian’s thoughts dwelled more and more on the person in Olivia’s prophecy. He imagined all scenarios and situations where someone he knows could become something more. Any of his cavalry could be it, for they were always improving their skills, Boze could become a greater tactician, Noah could surpass the blacksmith and Mari could learn more about history and tomes. No one specific person would come to his mind. “Who can go further than the others?” Ian pondered, and put the thought to rest as he turned to battle preparations.

 

Shayne found Damien, and ever since the knowledge of his lost past was discovered, he found himself more cautious around his best friend. Oblivious to the situation, Damien greeted his friend and queried why he wasn’t guarding Ian. “He let me off, something about needed to talk to you about your past or something.” “Oh, well do you when who I am, or what I did while I was in Aveil?” “What you did in Aveil; no one knows your past dude” Shayne replied with immediate regret. “Alright, well, we should sit down, there’s a bit to go through.” Damien said sweetly, and Shayne laughed dryly and the pair sat outside in the cold to reminisce about their lives.

 

“And after I escaped the castle I was in, I journeyed for weeks to a border crossing between Aveil and what I didn’t know was Smosh. I camped and made my living there for a few years, and slowly put my life together for what I thought would be decades. I cleared and area and built a small hut, searched around for discarded materials, like some metal I found in the riverbed, and shaped into a shallow dish to cook things in over the fire. I eventually began a farm of wild berries and bush potatoes, and hunted fish for most days. Life was quite tranquil, until scouting guards found me; and, well, you know the rest.” Damien finished and Shayne couldn’t help but marvel at his story, it almost seemed like a fairytale brought to life.

 

“Well, to counter,” Shayne said with a smile, “My life has pretty much been training first, leisure second. I spent years training as a knight, rose the ranks quickly and was chosen upon Ian’s coronation to be his personal guard. I’ve been protecting him now for almost six years.” He continued. Damien knew Shayne trained a lot, but never this much. “I envy you man, you have a set path in life, something that gives you meaning, I just have been running away from anything I was ever told. But now I’m ready to start again, with you in my life the entire time.” Damien commented pleasantly. He wanted to do and be more, for more than just himself.

 

Across the town, Olivia was setting up for her midday ritual. This ritual provided information from the spirits that they chose to give, as apposed to Olivia asking for specific information. The ritual was simple. She placed a dish of water upon the pedestal in front of her and positioned herself opposite it, and as she chanted, she placed a crystal into the bowl and a voice began calling to her.

 

“The boy, the kind soul, after losing so much, shall gain it all, his life fulfilled and purpose found. The world will be anew under his gaze as he wanders familiar halls. After sadness, conflict and hardship, all shall be well.” Olivia stood as the celestial voice faded, and she wrote down all that she could and made her way hastily back to the palace to inform Ian of this new information.

 

Even further form the palace, Keith is accompanying Noah while he has a break from working with the blacksmith. “So do you really have to leave soon?” questioned Noah. “For right now I do, but I’ll be back with more stuff to sell so it’ll be like I never left” Keith replied optimistically, “I sure hope so” Noah rebutted, “All my friends either joined the barracks or left town to other parts of the kingdom, I rarely see anyone.” Noah sighed. “I’ll stick around.” Keith smiled, “But for now I gotta go, so I’ll be back in a week.” Keith finished.

 

And with their conversation over, Noah was beckoned back into the smithy and Keith prepped his wagon for his journey back to neighboring Aveil. He bound atop his horse and turned as Noah stared as his only close friend road out of town.

 

Olivia arrived at the castle, and was directed to Ian’s study. With Shayne not around, she sought permission to enter the room. She knocked and heard light footsteps approach the door. A befuddled Ian answered and ushered her into the study. “And to what do I owe this well-timed visit of yours?” Ian quipped. “I received more information sire.” The oracle said, straight to the point. “Continue” Ian said keenly. “A kind boy here in the town after loosing everything shall rise and fulfill his destiny, he will be in a familiar place and gaze upon something, the spirit also said they have experienced sadness, conflict and hardship.” Olivia stated, “Do you have any idea as to whom this is about?” Ian questioned again.

 

“Well, they have to young, considerate, learned, and experienced.” Olivia deduced, “So it could be Noah, Shayne, Wes or Damien.” She concluded. “You’re right, so now we need to figure out who has been through it all.” Added the King. I suppose we take this time to ask them all what they've experienced.” He added.

So Ian called upon Mari to quiz the aforementioned men about their lives over the next week and determine whom best fits the oracle’s predictions.

 

As Olivia left the castle for the second time that day, the barracks were all training outside, the knight and guard divisions. Wes was leading the two troupes, but Damien was disconnected and trained using his personal routine. The snow crunched under their feat, whilst their hot breaths formed small clouds in the sky as they exhaled. Olivia’s eyes lingered on Wes and Damien, both who could fit the prophecy. Het thoughts turned to Wes. He is kind, and lost his father when he was a child and has certainly seen conflict, so he could possibly become the best knight there has been in a long time, which makes him eligible, but he doesn’t truly know hardship, as his skills came very naturally with little effort. So she believes that Wes isn’t it.

 

Now entering her temple, her thoughts turn again, now to Noah. He knows sadness, with him loosing all his friends, is terribly kind and has had trouble working with the blacksmith, but has overcome the hardship. The only bit that doesn’t fit is conflict. He can hold a fight, but has never had too, so he’s out. Her mind begins to strain and decides to leave the topic alone for now and take a break.

 

As Shayne has returned to Ian’s side, he spots Mari in the living space with him and Ian and is continually glancing his way. At first, he ignores it, but can’t not look over every once in a while. He slowly makes his way toward her, knowing that she is doing something in relation to him, he tries to convince her that he can help. “Hey Mari, you need me for something?” he proposes. “Well, just filling in some holes would be nice.” She admits, “Can you answer a few things for me?” her statement causes Ian to put down his novel and pay attention.

 

“Sure, what do you need?” Shayne asks. “Well, have you ever been really sad? Like it’s the end of the world?” “Uhhhhh, I was super bummed when Damien was taken, like I lost my best friend for two decades, where do you go from there?” Shayne stated, “Okay, how about where you think you’ll go, like what’s your potential?” “Well, again, I think my first bit of potential hit when Ian chose me to be his guard, singling me out proved that my training meant something, but the longer I can continue serving him, the more I’ve filled my potential I think.” Shayne said confidentially. “Thanks, that’s all I needed.” Mari concluded, and continued reading her manuscripts, jotting down notes as she went.

 

Shayne felt glad about helping, despite not knowing what for, and returned to his post by Ian who was still reading the same page as he was minutes ago. Mari left the room and went to consult with Olivia, unbeknownst to Shayne, but he continued to stand by and protect his King while he read. For once he envied Damien and his ability to train more. He sighed lightly and went about his duties as normal.

 

After Mari had consulted with Olivia, their only option left was Damien, the enigma. “His mysterious and unexpected arrival shocked us all, especially Shayne. Twenty years without seeing your best friend must’ve been hard.” Stated Mari, “Yes, so I guess that’s his sadness – that whole kidnapping in general.” Olivia replied. “And he can clearly hold his own in any sort of fight,” continued Mari, “His combat skills are almost unmatched.” “And the hardship was living on his own skills and resourcefulness in the wild for so long, right?” Olivia added, “We also don’t know what his future will be, apart from the fact that he’s the son of the King of Aveil.” Mari said, trailing off. Olivia jerked at this statement, “Wait, his potential – from a boy to a prince!” she exclaimed, “Or, a prince to a King?” retorted Mari. Without alerting anyone, the pair had to now inform Ian of their discoveries, but not with Shayne present. That would be tough considering his position is to protect the King.

 

As the sun set, the barracks, Wes and Damien finished training and hit the showers to clean off in time for dinner. Wes offered Damien to eat with him at the head table, but politely declined as Shayne offered for him to eat with himself and Ian and talk about the past. Wes replied gently and said they’d do it one day, and Damien agreed. As Damien stepped out of the crowded showers, he made his way back to his chambers to dress fully, only currently covered by a shirt and wrapped towel around his waist.

 

Being careful not to drip water on the floor, Damien stepped into his room to find an envelope stick to his wet foot. The letter was addressed to him, but he was late to meet in the dining hall, so took the letter with him to read once he’d gotten changed. Walking into the hall, Ian and Shayne we seated and were awaiting his company. He sat down gladly, always looking forward to filling meals after living of vegetables alone for years on end.

 

Without thinking twice, he opened the letter whilst at the table, and practically chocked on his first mouthful while reading it. Shayne’s head snapped to the left and Ian looked up to see a red-faced Damien holding a letter in hand. “You okay man?” questioned Shayne, clearly fearing for his friends life.

Damien coughed “All good man, just this letter is super weird.” “Well, what does it say?” came Ian’s voice. “Well, it says that I’ve made a grave mistake and that they’re coming to collect what is rightfully theirs. I have no idea what it means, plus there’s no sender.” The other two remained stunned until Shayne replied with a witty remark to lighten the mood, Ian asked to keep the letter for a few days and then the trio continued their dinner until Shayne was dismissed for the evening.

 

Mari was now leaving Olivia for the day, and the pair agreed first thing to see Ian the next day and get there before Shayne does.

 


	7. Chapter 7

With the snow partially melted, a shivering Olivia met with a rugged up Mari at the palace doors to be let in. The instant feeling of warmth had her remove her coat and proceeded to find Ian at this ungodly hour of the morning. The pair strutted to his chambers, assuming he would still be asleep, and were denied access to his room. Olivia exclaimed that is was important to the fate of the kingdom, but Mari went ahead a cast an ancient hypnosis charm on the standing guard and forced him to let them pass. Once inside Mari lit the log fire and Olivia coaxed Ian from his sleep.

 

Much to his distress, he realised who was in his room; the oracle and sorcerer historian. Once they explained that they believe that the man in the prophecy is Damien, they debated on whether to tell him if he is a prince or not. After a few minutes of confusing arguing, a knock was heard at the door. It was Shayne, appearing for his work to begin for the day. No one answered the door immediately, fearing Shayne’s reaction, so they continued talking quietly for a few more minutes.

 

As half an hour passes, Shayne knocks on the door to let Ian know that it’s time to start his day. To his shock, the door opens and Mari and Olivia forward out, thanking Ian as they both turned and left the wing. A stunned Shayne makes his way into the King’s lavish chambers and doesn’t question their encounter. Ian smiles knowingly and proceeds to enlighten him about the possibility of Damien being the person to be from the prophecy.

 

Shayne agrees with all the Ian had said, and also mentions the letter that he opened at the previous nights dinner. Ian thought nothing of it, but Shayne saw it as a potential threat, one that could lead to conflict. Ian thought the idea was far fetched, but thought about the conflict being the one Olivia mentioned. So he walks to his desk and pulls out Damien’s letter he lent Ian, and reread it to Shayne aloud.

 

“It sounds like me need to find the person who wrote this letter, otherwise this could go south very fast.” Shayne concluded. “Agreed, but how could me possibly check?” asked Ian. “Check the wax seal?” assumed Shayne, and he was right. The pair made their way to Mari’s study for her to compare the seal to any notable crests. After presenting her with the letter, textbooks thud onto the table as they were violently flicked open by the historian and she examined their contents.

 

After a very short amount of time, and after reading the content of the letter, the crest was found to belong to the royal household of Aveil. “Thus meaning, they want Damien back.” Mari concluded. A surprised Ian and Shayne waited for her to continue her reasoning. “Assuming he’s the only heir, especially because he’s male, he holds their line of succession. And if they have just learned of their escape, they’d be finding a way to tack him down. But we mustn’t tell him, who knows what could happen.” Mari ended.

 

Her words hung in the air like a thick fog. Knowing that they are on the verge of war with no absolute protection needed to be addressed immediately. “We must notify all other provinces and towns in Smosh, and tell them to ready for war. This town shall be the last place for defence. We can try and reason with them to only come here, and avoid any unwanted casualties.” Ian planned. Shayne hummed in agreement, still fixated on Damien, and Mari left to consult Boze on strategies of war.

 

Keith arrived back into town sooner than expected, but without his wagon. Noah greeted him gleefully, but was cautious about his intentions for being back so soon. “Aveil, they’re coming to fight now, for Damien.” Keith said breathlessly. Then he asked was Noah where the King was, and he made his way straight to the palace. A befuddled Noah could only watch and stare at his friend so early in the morning. Keith bashed on the palace doors and asked for an audience with Ian. He met with Ian in the throne room and had Shayne by his side as he came to tell of his urgent news.

 

“Sire,” Keith puffed, “I have returned from Aveil early, as I have escaped the clutches of their forces.” Ian now hung on his every word. “I was held against my will for any information of Damien’s whereabouts, and I apologise, but my life was at stake, so I had to tell the truth. But I am here now telling you of their invading forces. They won't negotiate, and are coming for Damien.” Keith concluded.

 

“Thank you greatly for this information merchant, what is your name?” asked Ian, “Keith, sir.” “Shayne, see to it later that Keith here is rewarded for his services.” “Sir.” Shayne said as he nodded. Keith then left so spend more time with Noah, and Ian called off audiences for the day. There was now a war to prepare for. Shayne fetched Wes and Damien at Ian’s request and the trio stood before their King, awaiting his instructions.

 

“War is upon us.” Ian started bluntly. “We many not have many in number, but the skills of our forces outmatch our opponents greatly.” Damien butt in, “Whom are our adversaries, sir?” “Appropriately answered Damien, for we are at war with the kingdom of Aveil. So you must tell us all you know of their military style and tactics.” The three soldiers stood in silence at the imminent thought of conflict. “Are you all willing to partake?” The men all nodded in synchronicity and were dismissed by Ian, who also instructed Shayne to escort Damien to Boze and Mari for the day.

 

Time flies when danger is afoot. Many weeks pass, the news of war steadily spread to the farthest corners of the Smosh kingdom, and any and all who could hold a sword did, protecting their towns and families at all cost. Despite their disadvantage, any knights were trained in any areas to prepare for multiple attacks. The relocation of civilians had begun, and most citizens of Smosh resided in the towns furthest away from the Aveilan boarder. It was time.

 

Aveilian troops made their way to the palace town, knowing to bypass all others. Their King marched with them, hoping to easily take his son and leave while killing Ian in the process. He would never fight, but wanted to see people suffer. Wes stood his men outside the walls of the tow, atop the walls, inside the keeps and gate, and guarding the multiple palace entrances. Each soldier was covered in protective armor and sported multiple weapons for any attack. Shyane was to protect Ian’s and Damien’s lives, despite Damien being prepared to fight. Ian was hidden away in the palace while the pair manned the throne room for those seeking to kill the King of Smosh.

 

Olivia, Keith, Noah and Joven had left with the townsfolk to find refuge whereas Courtney stayed to aid those who become injured, Boze and Mari held the tactics and strategies. Parades of horses could be heard in the distance thanks to the defrosted ground. The knights were in formation and awaited Wes’ signal. They now awaited the encroaching Aveilian army to arrive.

 

Damien and Shayne waited in the throne room, and the tension was palpable. Shayne had growing feelings towards his multi-talented friend, and was never truly game to tell him how he felt. After knowing that he was a prince made it even more difficult to relate with Damien. But knowing this was a life-or-death situation, he mustered the balls to tell his friend. As soon as the situation was resolved, a masked assassin entered the room, seemingly hoping to find and eliminate Ian before Aveil’s forces arrived.

 

 

“Hey,” Shayne said breaking the silence. “I think I should tell you something.” He continued, with Damien’s full attention now on himself. “I – aw geez man – I, think over this past little while, I’ve realised how much I missed you;” “Aw thanks man.” Damien responded kindly, “I thought so too, until I kept thinking about it, then I thought about our relationship and what it is. And to me, I want it to mean so much more. Will you give it a shot, assuming with both make it out of this?” Shayne anxiously asked. “So, you’re saying you like me, and want to see if we can explore out relationship further?” Damien stated plainly. Shayne nodded in return. “I suppose it can’t hurt to try, seeing as you clearly have been thinking about this for a while now. So I won’t deny you that shot.” Damien said to Shayne’s delight. The duos stance rapid changed as Damien looked to Shayne to take this fight himself.

 

Damien dipped and weaved right as the assassin was about to reach him. Damien was quick and flung an uppercut at the warrior assassin, attempting to catch him off guard. The assassin sidestepped to the right just enough and the fist passed a hairs breath from his face. Quickly, before Damien could respond with a follow-up, the assassin swiftly swung at Damien in the back, knocking the wind out of the cestus fighter, stunning him for a brief moment.

 

The fight had taken the pair dangerously close to the edge of the throne room and Damien had his back almost to the wall, despite his counter offensive.

The assassin was still open for more attacks though and Damien was not done.

The quick blow had opened the assassin up for a quick attack and Damien obliged him, putting a simple punch into the swordsman’s stomach, doubling him over.  The assassin followed that up with a quick rising slash to Damien’s left side as he swooped around to the back of the warrior, pinning him to the wall.

 

Shayne rushed over amidst the confusion as questioned the assassin for his King’s reason for invading Smosh, but return Shayne a wry smile. His mood changed immediately, as Damien slowly rose the light man off the ground with Shayne wielding a sword to his side. Shayne repeated the question and received an answer. Much to Damien’s shock and Shayne’s suspicion, they were looking for Damien, despite not knowing what he looks like. Shayne proceeded to take the man to the other side of the room and snap his neck to put him out of his misery.

 

A befuddled Damien now sat on the throne steps to contemplate what the assassin had meant. Shayne struggled to hold in the truth, and with the same logic as before, with their lives on the line, told him all he knew about Damien’s true past., but chose to keep the information about him being a prince for another time.

 

After a lengthy discussion and no more interruptions, Damien came to conclusion. “So, you’re telling me, my captor is the current King of Aveil, and they’re coming to take me for succession reasons and because I escaped months ago. Why was all this withheld from me?” a slightly annoyed Damien asked. “Well, we thought you’d do some stupid and rash things to solve the problem, like turn yourself in. I wasn’t going to let that happen. And the fact that the people who kidnapped you actually were your family, doesn’t seem like something you'd like to know about, especially after escaping from them.” Shayne countered.

 

After no more attempts were made by Aveilian troops to attack the throne room, the pair made their way outside to help Wes with the crusade. Shayne and Damien exit the palace, and head forward to help man the town entrance, to find a calm Wes standing by the drawn gates. “What’s the situation down here?” queried Shayne, and Wes responded coolly “It’s been pretty quite, how about on your end?” “Damien caught an assassin trying to find Ian. It was a pretty sweet fight man.” Shayne bragged. Wes continued his report. “They’ve stopped advancing, it’s been a while and nothing has happened to warrant a counter attack.” “But surely this means they’re planning something major.” Damien countered.

Before anyone could respond, guards called from atop the town wall, “Ballistae!” Balls of fire simultaneously flew through the air and crashing into the ground. Men ducked for cover as orders began flying to retaliate with their own aerial assault. Wes and Damien led the fight, by charging atop the walls and dipping their arrows into a liquid and setting them alight. Wes specialised in archery, and it was one of Damien’s many skills. Shayne instead tried to deal with the onslaught of falling fire-balls as they hit the town.


	8. Chapter 8

The thick, smoke riddled air choked the soldiers which intermixed with the bitterness of dripping sweat. The deafening sounds of the heavy impacts of cascading rocks were barely enough to obscure the cries of men, the screams of firing bows, and the whizzing of arrows impaling the encroaching army. Shayne suddenly found himself on his side, pain from a dozen wounds barely registered, being drowned out by the heightened, throbbing ache from the shattered hand which hung trembling on the right side as he was struck with hurtling, burning shrapnel. Unbeknownst to his friends, Shayne made his way to a nearby house for shelter – seeing if he could continue the fight.

 

The town was slowly being surrounded, with the opposing army’s numbers slowly equalling theirs as the soldiers were picked off one by one with superb archery skills. The second assault came as men tried to scale the wall. Their only defence was to push the ladders down and pour scolding liquids over the edge. Despite his physical prowess, Damien never really liked injuring people, let alone killing them, so he left Wes to deal with the stragglers until their next phase and went to find Shayne.

 

Pulling away from the fight, Damien saw the carnage in full. A long draw out and quick attack had caused this much damage, which was truly frightening. Houses of fire, cobblestone obliterated, glass shattered, trees burnt and pathways destroyed. It was a nightmarish sight to behold. Damien began his worrying search for Shayne around the main square. His eyes darted rapidly, scanning for his friend, looking over the injured bodies strewn on the land; he spots Shayne nursing his hand nearby a house. Assessing the scene around him, Wes was holding his own with the soldiers, and decided to see to Shayne.

 

Seeing Damien’s face was a tremendous relief to Shayne, as he rushed to his side. “Hey there stranger,” Shayne said playfully, trying to mask his pain, “you look like you’ve seen some stuff.” He said referring to Damien’s newly acquired gash to his head that had seemed to just stop pouring out blood. Damien could only scald Shayne for his manner, and forgive his just as quickly when he saw his best friends’ condition. “Son of a Goose Shayne! Is your hand broken?!” Damien exclaimed. Shayne confirmed his suspicions by attempting to wave with his limp hand for comedic effect. “Shit man, could you hang here until we clean these guys up?” Damien queried, hoping his friend wouldn’t do anything rash. “I can hold my own man, I’ve been doing that ever since you left.” Shayne responded dryly.

 

Those words stung Damien’s heart. It wasn’t like he had a choice in the matter, he was just taken from all that he knew and loved. So instead of throwing his anger at Shayne, he forced it into his psyche and returned to the battle ahead. Seeing that their forces were not being used to their full potential, Damien pulled the gears suspending the gate and stormed outside the town toward the enemy troops further away. Wes saw Damien’s figure fly outside the battlement and chose a handful of his best knights to accompany them while the rest dealt with stragglers. Wes and his knights charged forth and cut down many unsuspecting soldiers and cavalry with their maces and broadswords.

 

Damien however traversed the trees silently, using nature as his guard. Any suspecting soul he came upon was quickly met with a silenced blow to the head and soon found themselves unconscious and on the ground. His quick method of attack meant the troops were being picked off one by one, dropping like flies. Amongst the nearing sounds of clashing metal, Damien spotted an unusual figure mingled amongst the combined armies. Seeing the man, he deduced that he was of more importance than the other enemy soldiers around him; wearing a more spectacular armour set that was embellished with crests and the Aveilian colours, and was topped off by a golden helm.

 

Damien thought he could be their captain, but Wes’ attire was vastly different, so if he wasn’t a captain, who was he? As Damien re-joined the fight with Wes beside him, a distant voice called out “Protect the King!” and simultaneously, the opposing soldiers formed a protective barrier around the helmed man. Damien was astounded. The man that had ordered his capture was mere feet away from him, and he felt a roaring rage surge within him. If Damien was to take him down, he needed help.

 

Shoving Wes to one side, he explained a simple plan. “Okay, all I need is an opening to the King. Once he’s taken care of the others won’t have any motive to fight, they might just stop.” Damien rushed. Wes nodded in agreement and ordered their men to divide and conquer, flanking the two sides and pulling the enemy warriors away, giving Damien just enough room to weasel his way into the King’s vicinity.

 

Clearly not recognising his face, Damien took this opportunity to announce himself and his troubles, before beating the life out of him. “Sir,” He began, and the golden helmet shot around to reveal the King’s glowing eyes, “Many years ago, you took al that I held dear, despite your plans for me, I persevered and escaped, yet fate has brought us together, and for all the pain and anguish you have caused me shall be reciprocated in my duel with you.” Damien said seething with anger. The King laughed at this accusation, but agreed the smaller man to a fight, assuming he would be dealt with quickly.

 

Removing his helm for a fair fight, Damien finally saw his captors face. A rugged man stood before him weary with age and neglect. Something was missing from his eyes, hope, Damien assumed, and continued gazing at the older man. His skin was becoming leathery and had palms that had seen no physical work other than the hilt of a sword. Despite all he saw, there was no sympathy to be had, and Damien charged with all his anger toward the steel-clad man. Being lightly armoured himself gave to his swift actions, but the steel breastplate worn by the King was impenetrable. Not willing to give up over something as simple as armour, he invited the King to take a few hits. A giant two-handed broadsword was unsheathed as the opposing King swung violently around him, harming anything in his way. Damien at first coped a blow to his back ducking down to avoid the hit, with the searing pain registering moments later. Despite the pain inflicted, Damien planned to use his time wisely and attempted a series of calculated blows.

 

He dodged the sword once more, and body slammed the older man in an attempt to throw off his balance, seeing that his armour would weigh him down greatly. As the King stumbled back as a result, Damien threw and uppercut to his jaw and jabbed rapidly at his gut, causing him to keel over in pain. Darting around the man to his rear, he kicked vehemently into the man’s lower back, causing him to collapse to the ground. Damien then pulled the sword from the man’s hands as he steadied himself, making way for a final hand-to-hand mêlée.

 

Out of sheer confidence, the Avelian King removed his breastplate and readied his fists for the bout. In response, as any gentleman would, Damien removed his cestus’ and stuffed them into his belt to keep them safe, now fighting with bare knuckles. In his peripherals, Damien could see that Wes had mostly decimated the opposing soldiers, with only a few left, apart from the handful in front of him. Damien quickly pulled a dagger from his hip as the man slowly jerked to his feet, latching onto his neck and holding the sharp object across his throat.

 

“Surrender, thief.” Damien demanded. The King spat at his feet, commanding that he be released, “You know who I am yes, then do your kingdom a favour and not upset mine any further.” The King reasoned, but he wasn’t buying any of it. “Then why, your highness, would you dare to put yourself in harms way, say as a way to upset your people?” Damien interrogated. “All this to destroy my town and what, take me back? What use did I serve you, what was my purpose?” The King laughed as he flung questions into the air, “It didn't matter if you were a stranger or my own kin – you were a toy for me to play with.” The King replied bluntly.

 

With all the affirmation he needed, Damien turned away from the man, and quickly dragged his hand as he ended the King’s life. His body fell limply to the forest floor, covered in cruises and welts and bleeding from the neck. A few enemy soldiers remained, to which Damien called out a proposal. “Your King is dead, here beneath my feet. We shall spare your lives if you take his body and possessions back to Aveil for a burial, and never return here again.” With weapons dropping to the ground with muted thuds of metal, men slowly gathered the man and his belongings and left the sight of the Smosh residents.

 

Damien and Wes regrouped and made their way back with their men to the town to go collect Ian and the evacuated townspeople and return home.


	9. Chapter 9

As the troupe arrived back in the town square, many able bodied knights were helping those who suffered severe injuries and were being taken into the palace for treatment.

 

Shayne, despite his promise to not do anything rash, was no where to be found in the town square. Damien rushed to ask any knights if they saw him after he left with Wes, to which most replied no. Damien knew that Shayne would only move if he desperately needed to. His only thought now was that he needed help – and only one person was around to do that; Courtney.

 

Thanking Wes a dozen times, Damien then made his way into the empty palace towards Courtney’s workroom to see Shayne and his hand. To his surprise, not many men had sustained injuries, but those who did were in severe conditions. Burnt flesh, severed body parts, gashes to the bone, were all commonplace amongst the men in the room, despite the minimal amount of fighting they actually had done.

 

Damien approached a hunched over figure in the corner of the room and met with a dirty-haired Courtney. “Back so soon?” she joked, trying to make light of the situation at hand. “Just, most of them are dead, the King too, we let some take his body back, out of solace.” Damien replied. “You guys are tough fighters, but can really show compassion when you need too.” Courtney said with a smile, “But I assume you’re here to find Shayne, and I’ll tell you he’s fine and in his room, so you can head up there.” She continued and gave Damien a wave as he left the lab.

 

As he traversed the palace hallways, Damien passed through silently, listening to the quiet sounds of his feet on the floor, and the sounds of nature barely audible through the walls. He was finally met with a large oak door to which he knocked gently. Slow footsteps responded, and he stood waiting for Shayne to answer in his own time.

 

Heaving his tired body toward the door, Shayne pulled his useable arm upward, pulled the handle, and drew the door back. To his amazement, he saw a scruffy, bloodstained, scarred Damien in front of him. “I told you not to do anything rash, and you left?!” exclaimed Damien, “Hello to you too.” quipped Shayne. Wary of his arm, Shayne pulled Damien into a loving embrace. Despite his feelings, he just loved having his best friend beside him, to know that he was alright. “Can I come in?” Damien asked as they broke apart, “Only if you don’t bleed on my bed, I just washed it the other day.” Shayne laughed and turned back into his room.

 

“So Courtney fixed you up?” Damien asked, “Yeah, she gave me something to make my hand heal faster, along with some cuts and bruises here and there; what did you end up with?” “Well, I fought the King of Aveil, so he was a tough one. He got me in the side with his giant steel broadsword, so I have a massive gash there, my knuckles have been torn bare and raw, I have a headache and I’m very tired. But we won, so tomorrow were should get the word to King Ian about our victories.” Damien finished while plopping onto Shayne’s bed. Shayne hummed in response, also falling onto the bed, and propped up his hand before the pair fell asleep on top of Shayne’s bed for the better part of the day.

 

Before morning broke, the pair were up and cleaning themselves of blood and dirt from the war the day before. Squashed into Shayne’s bathroom, Shayne showered whilst Damien used the sink to wash his face of dirt and grime. As quickly as the pair could, they switched positions as Damien then showered and Shayne brushed his teeth, attempting to not stare at each others toned bodies in the process. The only thing Shayne could ever compare to Damien was the fact that he had better abs, which he wasn’t shy to declare from time to time either.

But they let it pass in favor of cleanliness and made a point to be ready quickly and send for Ian and the townsfolk.

 

They met with Wes, who gathered his most able knights and sent them to the furthermost southern town where everyone was in refuge. As the day passed slowly with nothing to do other than remove rubble from the town square, the pair stood atop the tower wall and awaited the arrival of everyone to come home.

 

Lines of people carrying their belongings, escorted by guards and knights were taken back to their homes and began to resume normal life. Noah and Keith returned quickly, as Keith had taken his horse and wagon. They went into Noah’s family home as the pair saw their other friends return home. Olivia, Mari and Boze came simultaneously, followed by Ian, who all bar Olivia returned to the palace.

 

The duo went to greet the three arriving home, and were met with looks of shock and pain. Mari and Boze went back to their workspaces, and Shayne guarded Ian into the throne room with Damien close behind. AS the three sat on the throne steps, Ian spotted a body lumped against a wall. “Should I know about that?” questioned Ian, and Shayne quickly moved the body outside to hide the face that they left a dead body in the room. “Someone came looking for you, before the army even attacked, and tried to assassinate you. We were both in here if such an attack took place.” Damien replied bluntly, but Shayne sounded more enthusiastic, “Well, Damien fought the guy with his cestus’ and totally beat the crap out of him.” Ian wasn’t shocked by the outcome but praised the pair nonetheless.

 

But Shayne couldn’t help but continue, “He also fought the King of Aveil, and won, but that was after the town was hit with flying balls of fire and my hand was broken, so ask him about the details.” “Well then,” Ian stated curiously. “I don’t want to relive it all, but I’ll tell you this – he admitted to being my captor, but refused to tell me why. So now I’ll never know.” Damien sighed. But Ian was quick to rebut, “Well, if Shayne hasn’t already told you, there’s more to your past than he let on.”

 

Damien’s face turned pale, and swiveled right towards Shayne. “Go on.” Damien replied, staring straight into Shayne’s eyes. “He took you all those years ago, because you were his son.” Ian said concisely. Nothing processed in Damien’s mind. He understood all those words together, but they didn’t formulate a sentence, so Shayne helped him out. “That means you’re a Prince dude, and you know, they don’t have a King anymore, so.” Damien understood the situation, which tied up many loose ends, but he couldn't help feeling guilty for killing his own father, without even knowing it. “He – He wasn’t a good man, to me. So how could he have been good to his people.” Damien reasoned, “So I can’t feel too bad about ending his life, he had all he wanted, but abused it to no end. I feel okay – for now.”

 

“So, what’ll you do now, your highness?” Ian said, breaking the silence. “Ha ha very funny, I’m not cut out for that life.” Damien snapped back. “I can’t just leave here and start a new life, not after all this.” He continued. “What if I sent someone with you, if you agreed to take the position, and of course agree to uphold peace between the two kingdoms?” Ian reasoned, to which Shayne’s eyes darted up. “But, I’ve worked with you for so long, you’re willing to let me go?” “No,” Ian replied rapidly, “You would have the same position, but guarding Damien; Wes shall take your place here if he is willing.”

 

An elated Shayne now tried to convince Damien that it was his duty, as the King’s only son and heir to uphold peace in Aveil and with Smosh. Turning a new leaf, Damien agreed to the change, and began the slow process of learning about his home country, cleaning and rebuilding the town, packing his belongings, and officiating his new role.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter!


	10. Chapter 10

The final day of Shayne and Damien being in their palace town had arrived. Their chosen friends had joined them for a final banquet before they left in the morning. Wes, Keith, Noah, Courtney, Boze, Mari and Joven were all seated around a table, with Ian at the head, and Damien reluctantly at the other end. They toasted to the future eating meal after meal as a salute to their victories. As they ended their night; Olivia made a speech about her visions of who ended up being Damien and the prophecy that came with it, Mari thanked him for being a terrific student, Boze thanked the pair for their tactical prowess and execution of her plans, Joven thanked them on behalf of the town, Courtney wished them eternal health and Keith and Noah thanked them for bringing the pair together as friends. Lastly, Wes thanked them for their training, their skills, their support in the One Day War, and for being overall great friends and sparring partners.

 

 

Ian finally toasted to a long lasting alliance between Smosh and Aveil, which ended their evening and the guests were shortly dismissed for the night as may retired home. Shayne left for his room, leaving Damien and Ian alone. Damien left his seat and moved closer to Ian at the head of the other end of the table. “So, I never asked, but how long have you all known about my past?” he asked quietly. “Weeks before the war Damien.” Replied the King. “Alright, but now can you run through some things I’ll need to know, like the things that are too hard to discuss over letter?” Damien pleaded, trying to get as much help as possible. Ian gladly agreed to help and the pair talked far into the night before they too retired until the morning.

 

Joven had announced the day before about Damien and Shayne’s departure, as so all the townsfolk had gathered to see them off. Wes and Ian accompanied them as they road towards the border crossing. Carrying all their belongings, word was sent to Aveil about Damien and as they arrived, had prepared a carriage for them to travel in. Wes agreed to take the horses, and allowed Ian, Shayne and Damien to board the carriage as they rode into the kingdom towards the castle town.

 

The ride was equal parts awkward, nervous and full of questions, mostly on Damien’s part. “So, this is it huh.” Shayne said breaking the silence. “It’s been an unforgettable time Shayne, butt you and Damien are destined for more.” Replied Ian solemnly. “We’ll visit.” Piped Damien, keeping his spirits as high as he could, “We could never leave you guys behind!” he said optimistically. Wes and Ian nodded with a smile and the slow carriage ride carried on into the afternoon.

 

They too were met with the same greetings with which they left, with smiling figures and cheering crowds appearing the further they got into the town. Pulling up to an enormous castle, the embellished stone bricks proved that Aveil’s worth was showcased in all means of life, the architecture, the size of buildings and the amount of people. It was almost twice the size of Smosh, with double the population. As the three inside the luxury carriage stared outside to Damien’s new home, Ian couldn't help but joke around. “Maybe I should ask you for a loan sometime.” He laughed. “We’ll see.” Damien replied gleefully.

 

Wes dismounted his horse and handed them off to be rested in the stables for a while. The carriage doors were opened and the party exited and made their way to the castle doors. Skeptical guards stood waiting, and were questioning the companies credibility apart from Ian, as to if the rumors were true about Damien’s past. They gave all the evidence they had, and were reluctantly allowed inside.

 

The inside walls were pristine and white, and draped with blue banners laden with geese and gold finishes. A guard rushed to their aid as they stood in the vast hallway. “Good day sirs, your majesty,” he began, “which one of you is our heir?” to which Shayne shoved Damien forward, almost knocking him over. “Very well, come with me, your friends may stay for now, but shall leave by the end of the day.” “Oh no sir.” Shayne retorted firmly, “I am his personal guard, and best friend, and at the request of King Ian of Smosh, to uphold the peace between our kingdoms, I am to take position as his guard.”

 

The man had no reason to argue with Shayne, as he could see Damien agreeing with the burly man. So the group made their way into a sitting room, where all the details of Damien’s coronation were discussed. “So, your highness,” Damien flinched at hearing the title, “we need this to take place as soon as we can, to ensure your protection, for already there are neigh-sayers in every part of Aveil.” began the guard, “but this is not a matter for me to discuss, I shall fetch the King’s chief guard to discuss the matter.”

 

The group stared awkwardly at each other, for Shayne would not likely become Damien’s personal guard if there already was one. If it came down to it, the only thing he could do is argue his point. “It’ll be fine guys, I know Damien better than anyone, if he’s going to be protected by anyone, it’ll be me.” Shayne said with a puffed chest. “We’ll see about that” came an anonymous voice, accompanied by the thud of a closing door. As the now seated group gazed at the older man, Damien drew in a sharp breath. He knew the man from his early days being locked in the palace. “Matt,” Damien said flatly, “I’m afraid Shayne will be upholding that position.” All eyes snapped towards Damien, gazes fixed as the shock of the moment settled in. “And it’s lovely to see you again, your highness, after all, it’s been so long.” Matt replied, emphasising Damien’s new title just to watch him wince. “And of course, greetings to you King Ian, it’s a pleasure to be in your company I’m sure.” he dragged on.

 

“I shall gladly discuss the matter of my coronation with you, but the matter of my personal protection falls to one person and one person alone. I’m sure you are aware that you can no longer punish me for not obeying your orders now can you?” Damien replied wittily. Stone gazes now shifted to the standing man, brooding over the company. Ian was the first to speak, “You, you hurt this man?” Matt quickly replied in a monochromatic tone. “Yes, his father wanted him to comply, which when he did not, he therefore gave me the abilities to uphold his wishes.”

 

Damien was quick to reply in a hurt manner, “Yes, but surely you realised you were doing something wrong when a child is afraid to open their mouth around you, let alone stand in the same vicinity with you. I’m sure you remember the time you cut my arm open because I was up past my curfew, because that scar is still there, and it reminds me of my will power and how far I’ve come.” Matt could only gawk as Damien overruled any and all statements he made.

 

“I am still the King’s protector.” Quipped Matt “For starters, you aren’t my protector, as I am not yet King. So for now, Shayne is my protector. As for my first proclamation, you Matt, shall be demoted to Chief Knight, as train our knights for the safety of our people. War shall not be a problem, so you should never truly need to take arms.” Damien stated. The party then agreed to make brief plans for Damien’s coronation, and Damien weighed heavily on his friends opinions, whilst actively ignoring Matt’s insistent proposals.

 

“Surely the new King of Aveil deserves a coronation to display our country’s wealth?” Matt inquired. Damien shook his head in reply, “Quite the opposite, I’ve been a simple man all my life, no matter where I was, and that is not about to change. I want to be authentic around people, be them townsfolk or royalty, I shall be myself. ” Matt finished sternly with a final statement, “We shall discuss this more with Sonny and Joe later on, for now I suggest you show your guests around and send them on their way.” “Very well, thank you Matt, please send for someone to show us around.” Damien replied, and with that, Matt left the room and promptly returned with another guard to tour them around Damien’s new home.

 

***

 

The tour concluded with a stroll through the palace gardens, which despite his father’s mean spirit, had the flora maintained to a beautiful standard. Willows wept and hung low over the pond, the small flowing creek was dotted with bulrushes and tall grasses mixing into kempt shrubbery forming topiaries. The flowers varied in type from roses to tulips to hydrangeas, but what was consistent was they were all the kingdoms hues of blue and golden yellows. Vines twisted up walls and posts as the occasionally sprouted buds and flowers of their own, dotting the twisting greenery lightly with colours.

 

It was a sight to behold, and the company of Smosh stood in awe at the magnificence the garden posed as they meandered slowly through it, admiring each variant of blue and yellow. Shayne kept a close eye on which plant enamored Damien the most, for his plans could finally come into fruition. But sadly, as the afternoon came to an end, so too did the time that Damien and Shayne could spend with Ian and Wes. They headed onward to the front of the palace, where a carriage would take Ian and Wes to the border to collect their horses. Shayne and Wes shook hands defiantly, for they had finally begun not to outdo each other, leaving time for the to connect more, for which they were both grateful.

 

Wes then turned to Damien and gave a low nod to the prince and said his farewell. “One day, if you’ll let me, I shall train harder to one day best you in combat, for your skills have made me question my own, and for that I thank you Damien.” Damien smiled widely and retuned the gesture. Shayne simultaneously turned to Ian, his long time partner, and said words he never thought he’d say. “Ian, my King, my purpose, my friend. Throughout these years your comfort and kindness helped me through many struggles, and through my loss of Damien, you helped me build myself back up into a better man than I was. I couldn’t have asked to serve a better man; thank you, for everything.” He said, tearing up.

 

“Well, I think you’ll have to change that last part,” Ian said smiling as he turned to meet Damien’s gaze, “for I think a better man stands right in front of me. All I ask is you protect him as you did me, even more so, for I wish to see you pair flourish in Aveil, and show them what good comes from Smosh.” Ian stated proudly. Damien was speechless, Ian, his King, his mentor, his now equal, called him better than himself. He didn’t think he deserved it, none of it. As he stumbled, words finally left his mouth to greet Ian.

 

“I’ve been under your guidance for many years. Your family kept me safe, housed me, allowed me to prosper. You accepted my return despite knowing nothing of me, but your trust and faith pushed me further than ever. If I am to be a King, I hope to be even half the King you are, and then I shall be truly happy.” Ian too welled up at Damien’s admittance, and so together, the teary group parted ways as Chief Guard Wes and King Ian departed Aveil towards Smosh, leaving Chief Protector Shayne and Crown Prince Damien there, ready to rise to their new challenge, together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ending to the first book! What did you all think of it? It took ages to write, but uploading it here makes it look so small! See you all in book two, where Shaymien takes centre stage!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you're all enjoying the book so far!


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